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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24692398">An Unfriendly Trip to the Friendly Arm</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GriegPlants/pseuds/GriegPlants'>GriegPlants</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Baldur's Gate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Curses, Gen, Team Dynamics, Uneasy Allies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:35:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,205</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24692398</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GriegPlants/pseuds/GriegPlants</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The scenery is different, but people on the world's surface work pretty much the same way as those beneath it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Baldur's Gate Gift Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>An Unfriendly Trip to the Friendly Arm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jo_draws1/gifts">Jo_draws1</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>‘Bother me any longer, wizard, and yer next sleep may be yer last.’</p><p>Viconia rolled her eyes as Montaron’s irritated tones drifted back to her yet again. For once, the wizard responsible for vexing the halfling was not his unstable comrade Xzar, but Edwin, the Thayvian conjurer who had travelled with them for a few tendays now. The previous evening, Montaron had made the mistake of showing off a mysterious magical girdle he had found, and Edwin had been consistently pestering him ever since in hopes of investigating it.</p><p>Normally, either the party leader or charming Imoen would’ve stepped in to ensure this conflict didn’t escalate, but the siblings from Candlekeep had gone on ahead to the Friendly Arm on important business while the rest of the party – Viconia, Montaron, and the two mages – were still recovering from their trek through the Nashkel mines. Now, the four uneasy allies were making their way up the Coast Way to rejoin their leader, and Viconia was growing increasingly concerned that they’d kill one another before reaching their destination.</p><p>She glanced sidelong at Xzar, who was humming a slightly eerie tune and intently watching the trees beside the road. Peering into them, she saw nothing there, but that was no surprise. Xzar seemed to see a lot of things that nobody else did.</p><p>‘Can you keep a leash on your companion, abban?’ she inquired quietly.</p><p>‘Oh, I don’t think so. Besides, this is quite entertaining.’</p><p>‘Perhaps for the moment, but I doubt we will be as entertained if it grows more violent. None of the Red Wizard’s favourite spells are confined to a single target.’</p><p>‘Montaron should give him the girdle,’ Xzar said. He giggled, eyes still fixed on the forest.</p><p>‘You do not desire it for yourself?’</p><p>‘I know what it does.’</p><p>Viconia looked quickly ahead as Montaron’s voice rose, but he was only yelling, not physically threatening Edwin. Yet.</p><p>She turned back to Xzar. ‘You identified it? Why haven’t you told any of us?’</p><p>‘I have. I told Monty.’ The necromancer giggled again. ‘I don’t think he wants it either, but since Edwin does he won’t give it up.’</p><p>‘What does it do?’</p><p>He told her.</p><p>‘Ah. Then none of us have any use for it. It is foolish of Montaron to risk us all simply because the Red Wizard is irritating.’</p><p>As she said this, however, she saw Montaron yank the magical girdle out of his pack and push it ungraciously at Edwin, knocking the conjurer back a few steps. ‘Have yer fun, then. If it be of any use to me, I’ll be having it back.’</p><p>‘Of course,’ Edwin said unconvincingly, already turning the girdle this way and that and muttering speculations to himself.</p><p>‘He’ll be most disappointed when he discovers its purpose,’ Viconia commented, amused.</p><p>Xzar smiled.</p><p>*  *  *</p><p>Edwin spent the next several hours investigating the girdle, but appeared not to reach any conclusions. The others walked ahead of him, glancing back periodically and smirking at one another, but he was too focussed to notice this.</p><p>With the immediate threat to her safety out of the way, Viconia found she was quite happy about the discord in the party. Mocking the Red Wizard gave her something to conspire about with the other two and strengthened their alliance. As out-of-place as she felt on the strange world of the surface, any chance to reinforce the dubious camaraderie she shared with her fellow adventurers was a valuable opportunity.</p><p>She wasn’t sure what to think about Xzar and Montaron. It was obvious their association pleased neither of them, but whatever power held them together was strong enough to overcome their enmity. Montaron wasn’t unlike many of the commoners she’d known in the Underdark, bitter and scheming, with no real ambition. He was dangerous, but less for his skill than for the obscurity of his motives. If she knew what drove him to put up with Xzar and the rest of the party, she’d be considerably more comfortable with his presence.</p><p>Xzar was even more worrying than Montaron. He was quite clearly disturbed, but seemed to have enough reason left to act according to his own interests most of the time. That he was still able to weave spells suggested that whatever was wrong with his mind might not be natural, but possibly due to a curse of some sort. He’d been more forthcoming about his background than had his companion, but unfortunately none of the stories he told made any sense, so this wasn’t helpful.</p><p>She understood Edwin a lot better than either of the others. Menzoberranzan had no dealings directly with Thay, but several other drow cities did, and she’d heard enough about the Red Wizard’s homeland to know it was similar to her own in many ways. Both societies were strictly hierarchical, rewarding those with ambition, skill, ruthlessness, and caution. Both were unforgiving to those who failed to overcome the challenges in their path.</p><p>That Edwin had survived this long was a testament to his arcane abilities, and she respected that. She respected little else about the conjurer. His utter lack of charisma or even basic social competence had clearly proven a hindrance to his career, and from what little she’d gathered from his boasting, was also probably why he’d been sent to this distant, barbaric land. He was fortunate that Thay did not factor gender into a person’s worth; in drow society, he’d certainly have managed to offend some priestess or matron enough to spur them to revenge far harsher than an unpleasant assignment.</p><p>They paused by the side of the road to eat. Viconia and Montaron shared cheese and pickled shellfish on salted bread; the drow was still unused to surface food, but at least some of the ingredients available along the coast were familiar to her. She’d made the party a passable mushroom stew the night before.</p><p>Xzar took a single pickled mussel from Montaron, probably more to annoy the halfling than because he was hungry. Edwin appeared too intent on the girdle to care about eating. As Montaron wrapped up the remainder of the cheese, the conjurer threw his hands in the air with a frustrated noise.</p><p>‘I do not detect any malevolent spellwork associated with this object,’ he declared, ‘and my time is too valuable to waste any further.’ He put the girdle on.</p><p>Immediately, Edwin’s beard and moustache vanished and certain areas of his robe grew considerably tighter. For a moment, he didn’t appear to realise what had occurred. Then he gave a short, horrified yelp at a considerably higher pitch than normal and yanked at the girdle, but it would not come off. He pulled out his dagger and attempted to slice through it, but the blade didn’t even make a mark on the leather.</p><p>The other three had managed to restrain themselves while Edwin fought with the girdle, but as he gave up and threw his dagger disgustedly onto the ground, they burst into peals of laughter. Edwin jumped and then shot them a furious glare.</p><p>‘Viconia, remove this cursed object immediately!’ he demanded.</p><p>‘Why would I? This is a great improvement, usstan'sargh wael.’</p><p>‘No it is <em>not</em>! What do you want? Gold? Cast your little spell, and every coin in my pouch is yours.’</p><p>‘No,’ she answered, and resumed laughing.</p><p>Montaron squinted at the sun. ‘Time to be going again,’ he said, sniggering.</p><p>‘<em>What</em>? Like – like <em>this</em>?’ Edwin stared at him in dismay. ‘Even your undersized brain must comprehend the gravity of this situation! (An <em>insect</em> would realise the abominable nature of my circumstances!) If the subterranean harlot is too idiotic to take this opportunity to secure my favour, we must find another solution as soon as possible. (Sooner! That this situation should persist is unthinkable.)’</p><p>‘’Tis well after twelve bells,’ the halfling remarked, unmoved. ‘It be well to reach Beregost ere the dusk falls.’</p><p>*  *  *</p><p>They did not reach Beregost before dusk. Edwin had argued with them all for some time before they were able to move along, and even then he would pause every hour or so to rant, complain, and generally lament his unwanted transformation until the others threatened to leave him behind.</p><p>‘You would think he had lost something of <em>value</em>,’ Viconia commented lazily as they set off once again into the rapidly dimming evening.</p><p>‘Ye and me don’t see eye-to-eye on what matters to a man,’ Montaron said, ‘but to be fair, he looks not much different now than he did beforehand.’</p><p>‘I think he’s prettier now,’ said Xzar dreamily, twisting the liver of a wolf they’d encountered on the road around and around in his hands. It made an unpleasant squishing noise. ‘Of course, that matters not unless you have eyes. But I have more than three-and-twenty!’</p><p>They ended up making camp in the crevice of a rocky cliff, sheltered from the wind. Viconia set up her tent patiently, making sure each pole was firmly anchored in the ground before draping the heavy leather over the top and tying it in place. In the Underdark, weather was not a concern for travellers, but she’d learned very quickly that on the surface, it posed far more danger than most of the animals one might meet in the wild. Montaron and Xzar made do with bedrolls, but she wasn’t as accustomed to the variable temperature and so had purchased a full tent in Nashkel before they left.</p><p>Edwin came up next to her as she finished with the shelter and rolled out her blanket inside it.</p><p>‘My unfortunate situation compels me to suggest a change in sleeping arrangements,’ he told her.</p><p>‘What change is that?’ She straightened, folding her arms and looking up at him. He’d never been particularly tall, and his height had not changed after he put on the girdle, but all the rivvin were far taller than she was. It neatly illustrated that power did not correlate with physical size.</p><p>The conjurer examined his long fingernails with a theatrically bored expression. ‘Now that you are not the only wom- eh, the only one of a certain anatomical persuasion in this party, it is appropriate that we should share a tent.’</p><p>‘Is it?’ Viconia arched an eyebrow. ‘You have your own tent, colnbluth.’ He did. It was larger and more elaborate than hers, though significantly less weatherproof.</p><p>‘Of course I do, but we should...’ he gestured vaguely between them. ‘As two wom- urgh. (Surely there is a less distasteful term for my current state!) I’m sure you have missed holding intelligent conversations in a more intimate setting than the road.’ The conjurer gave her a smile that might have been seductive if he had been a remotely seductive person.</p><p>‘I don't believe what you’re suggesting would provide me with any intelligent conversation,’ she said. ‘I intend to sleep, now. Leave me be.’</p><p>Slipping into her tent, she tied the flap shut and waited. She heard Edwin take a few deep, furious breaths and then walk away, muttering to himself. Only when his footsteps had receded did she allow herself to break into quiet laughter.</p><p>*  *  *</p><p>The party’s mood was not much changed in the morning. It was Edwin’s turn to make breakfast, and while he did not refuse to do so, as Viconia had expected he might, he put so much hot spice into the boiled wheat that Xzar had to run off and dunk his whole head in a nearby stream. Montaron pointedly dumped his bowl onto the grass and ate some jerky instead, smiling all the while.</p><p>Viconia ate the wheat with her eyes streaming, holding Edwin’s gaze throughout. While such inconveniences might decrease if she agreed to remove the cursed girdle, his petty behaviour only made her more determined not to do so. Besides, she could not afford to look weak.</p><p>By the time they set off, Edwin had moved from spite into desperation, and spent the next leg of their journey alternatively threatening, begging, and attempting to bribe Viconia into casting a Remove Curse spell. He only stopped when a large group of hobgoblins set upon them from the bushes next to the road.</p><p>The fight took longer than it should have given the number of enemies. The hobgoblins had the higher ground, and their pernicious archers forced Viconia and Montaron to advance quickly before they could pick off the mages. This put the duo in the middle of the melee fighters, and things had been rather touch-and-go for a while. Finally, Montaron finished off the last foe with a clever twist of his sword.</p><p>Viconia grimaced as she shook blood and fragments of skull from the front of her shield. Her companions were similarly blood-spattered, even the mages, for towards the end of the battle they’d run out of spells and had to resort to close combat. Edwin looked disgusted, but Xzar seemed happy about it, at least for the moment.</p><p>Montaron, who looked less like a halfling than a small pile of blood and viscera, snarled and flung a bit of the last foe’s intestine off the tip of his blade.</p><p>‘I be needing a hot bath and something that dies without leaving a mess,’ he said. ‘Preferably at the same time.’</p><p>‘We passed a pond but a little while ago,’ said Xzar.</p><p>Viconia tried to think back on their route, but it had turned to a blur of unfriendly trees and empty, hollow sky in her memory. Perhaps there had been a pond at some point. Xzar had no particular reason to lie, as far as she could determine, so the four of them backtracked with the necromancer leading.</p><p>It didn’t take them long to reach the pond. Dark and chilly, it pooled between smooth stones and crept up the side of the moss-covered house half-submerged in it. Montaron began peeling off his armour and clothing as soon as the gleaming pool came into sight. Xzar followed suit with his robe, but then sat by the water’s edge admiring his blood-smeared reflection rather than following his comrade into the shallows.</p><p>Viconia gazed around at the dark trees, uncomfortable with removing her armour when danger could be lurking in the shadows of every trunk. Gripping her holy symbol, she eventually divested herself of her maille and tunic and set both by the edge of the pond. As she slid into the cool water, she glanced back and saw that Edwin was still standing well back from the pool, with arms crossed and an expression of discomfort thinly veiled by disinterest.</p><p>‘Are ye coming in or not?’ Montaron asked, splashing water over his hair.</p><p>‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Edwin scoffed.</p><p>‘Ye mean to walk into town looking like that, then?’ Montaron sniffed deeply and made a face. ‘And <em>smelling</em> like that...’</p><p>‘It is hardly my concern if these barbarians cannot stomach the sight of a little blood.’ The mage glanced down at his robes and went slightly green, but continued. ‘Once they have my gold in their grubby, plebeian hands they’ll forget about any offence my appearance may cause them (not that their minuscule minds could possibly be as offended by it as <em>I</em> am).’</p><p>‘Suit yerself, but if’n I’m not allowed into a tavern on account of it, the next blood on yer robes be yer own.’</p><p>‘Your threats are as far beneath my notice as you are, monkey,’ Edwin said. ‘You only want me to undress so you can leer at me!’</p><p>Montaron laughed. ‘Believe me, wizard, unless that form be far finer than yer usual one, there’s nothing I want less.’</p><p>Edwin looked slightly comforted and hugely offended by this, and stalked off to sort through his spell components.</p><p>*  *  *</p><p>Montaron’s concerns proved well-founded. The party had barely passed the threshold of the Jovial Juggler before Officer Vai was escorting them out again. Feldepost’s Inn was no friendlier. They eventually made it into the Red Sheaf, possibly thanks to Montaron’s growling countenance leading the way past the bouncer, but the bartender would not rent them any of the nicer rooms.</p><p>The sad, dirty room they <em>did</em> rent had only two beds. Xzar flatly refused to share a bed with anyone and vanished into the night, saying he would find somewhere else to rest. To Edwin’s great disappointment, Viconia and Montaron quickly agreed – via an exchange of wry looks – to bunk together. They were small enough to fit comfortably beside each other even on one of the narrow straw cots of the cheap room.</p><p>The next morning, they exited the inn to find a chilly drizzle creeping down from grey skies. Their necromancer was waiting outside the door, spots of dark mud speckling his robes where the rain had not yet soaked them. They ate a small breakfast as they walked, mostly staying silent.</p><p>Viconia had not slept soundly, uneasy resting beside another body for the first time in a very long while. She thought her tossing and turning had kept Montaron awake too, though he’d said nothing of it. She suspected he wanted Edwin to be envious of the two of them.</p><p>The conjurer looked quite exhausted. He’d stayed up late studying his spellbook by candlelight, and Viconia wasn’t sure he’d slept at all after that. He had seemed tired the previous day too, and she wondered if he’d gotten any sleep the night before that. Certainly he wasn’t coping well with the curse of the girdle, though to be reasonable, Viconia doubted she’d be any happier to suddenly find herself in the body of a male. Though as males were inferior, she’d have more legitimate reason for distress.</p><p>Only Xzar seemed to have slept well. She wondered where he had gone. The muck on his robes had washed away, but there was still black dirt under his frayed fingernails. Perhaps he had slept in a grave; it seemed the sort of thing he would do.</p><p>They encountered a few gibberlings on their way north, but nothing more threatening. The rain stopped before highsun, although the sky stayed dull and cloudy. </p><p>The Coast Way wound this way and that, leading between rocky outcrops and over gentle hills. Not for the first time, Viconia reflected that the terrain of the surface world was not unlike that of the Underdark – it merely looked different due to the light and the coating of plants that lay over everything. She wished she could find consolation in that, but it only served to remind her of what she had left behind.</p><p>‘Viconia,’ said Edwin abruptly, as the party made their way through the cool evening, ‘I wish to debate a point with you.’</p><p>Inwardly, the drow was relieved to have a distraction from her painful thoughts. It would not do to show this to her companions, though. Useless longing was worth little, and she could not afford for them to think her less than impervious to sorrow. ‘What point is that, rivvil?’</p><p>The Red Wizard sped up slightly to walk beside her, looking irritatingly smug. It was a stark change from his earlier sullen silence. ‘As I understand it (which is no doubt very well), a female’s standing in drow society relies primarily on the favour she has with Lolth. Is this not correct?’</p><p>Viconia was not best pleased for the distraction to have turned immediately to discussion of her lost homeland. ‘For one of my rank, it is. For those below me, the favour of the matron mothers is more immediately important.’</p><p>‘Yes, yes. I am talking about you. So I, as a mage, might earn the favour of Lolth by applying my considerable power in pursuit of her goals.’</p><p>‘If you were drow, you might.’</p><p>‘This is theoretical. Now <em>you</em> are a priestess, so your usefulness to Lolth depends on your devotion to her through sacrifices, offerings, and so on.’</p><p>‘Yes.’</p><p>‘So, since you are now a follower of Shar, you are worse than useless to Lolth, whereas my value has remained neutral. Does this not mean that I am higher in her favour?’</p><p>‘In a manner of thinking,’ Viconia said. Though decidedly unhappy with so much talk of the Spider Queen, she saw where Edwin meant to take his argument, and was amused.</p><p>‘In that case, it is obvious that you should do all in your power to reverse the unacceptable curse that afflicts me. The fact that you haven’t done so thus far would doubtlessly mean your death in any other situation, but I can be gracious. Remove the girdle now and I will say nothing about it.’</p><p>Viconia smiled. ‘We are not among the drow, and you are not truly a woman, <em>male</em>. Why do you resume these attempts now, when we’ve nearly reached the rest of the party? I suppose you do not wish our leader to see your improved form.’</p><p>Edwin nearly shrieked at her, fire sparking at his fingertips for a second before he clenched his fists in his robes and walked quickly up the road ahead of the party.</p><p>‘I am a mage as well.’ Xzar spoke gently from very close behind her, and she barely managed to suppress the urge to jump. ‘Would the Dark Mother favour me too, if I were a woman?’</p><p>‘I think not,’ Viconia said tersely, her good mood spoiled by the shock and the reminder of the goddess who hunted her. ‘Your mind is hardly ordered enough to carry out even her will.’</p><p>‘A shame,’ the necromancer sighed. ‘I imagine the Lady of Chaos and I would have such fascinating conversations.’</p><p>*  *  *</p><p>They reached the Friendly Arm just as the sun’s last cloud-shrouded light vanished behind the hills. Their companions were waiting, as promised, and after having a good laugh at Edwin’s misfortune, their leader asked Viconia to remove the cursed girdle. She complied without argument, smirking as she cast the spell, and Edwin seemed too elated at his restored form to either thank her or retaliate for her earlier behaviour.</p><p>The party rested at the inn that night and then set off once again, travelling here and there in search of rumours and chances to earn more coin. They were visiting High Hedge, to purchase equipment and recuperate after a difficult battle with a priest of Cyric somewhat further south, when Edwin motioned her aside.</p><p>Their companions were engaged in lively bartering with Thalantyr, so Viconia followed the Red Wizard to the steps outside the stone estate.</p><p>‘What do you want, rivvil?’ she asked.</p><p>‘Merely to thank you for your invaluable assistance with my recent problem – <em>of which we will never speak again</em>,’ he said, vehemence not disturbing his slightly worrying grin.</p><p>‘Your thanks are unnecessary. I obeyed the wishes of our party leader, as always; my feelings towards you were not involved.’</p><p>The conjurer’s grin turned a bit sickly, but he rallied. ‘Regardless of your very rude demeanour, I want to express my gratitude more materially than I can with words alone,’ he said. From a pocket of his robe, he extracted a delicate-looking pair of gauntlets and handed them to her.</p><p>‘And what is the purpose of these?’ she asked, arching a pale eyebrow.</p><p>‘Nothing in particular,’ he said airily. ‘I saw them and thought, “What could suit our dear dark priestess’ elegant hands better than these attractive gauntlets?” (Yes, they will suit her very well indeed.)’</p><p>‘I see.’ She took the gauntlets and inspected them briefly before placing them into her own pocket. ‘The day is too warm for such things, but perhaps I will wear them later.’</p><p>‘Of course,’ he said, still smiling. He was practically gloating already, she thought.</p><p>Xzar was more than happy to identify the gauntlets for her surreptitiously later that day. As she’d anticipated, they were cursed. Anyone wearing them would become absurdly clumsy, and would be unable to remove them without the use of a spell. It was, she reflected, a fairly clever choice of object, since one might imagine that a wearer would be too clumsy to perform the complex movements required to cast a spell of Remove Curse without messing up, perhaps with fatal consequences.</p><p>At least, it could have been clever if she were a mage. As a cleric, the gestures she used to cast were nothing more than vague indications of intent, emphasizing the direction of the divine power granted for her use by Shar. As it was, she took great pleasure in putting on and admiring the gauntlets next morning, being very careful not to attempt anything requiring much coordination, and then removing them by magic while Edwin was otherwise occupied. When he noticed that she was no longer wearing the gauntlets, but carrying them tucked into her belt, he looked at once confused and incensed.</p><p>She was not surprised when her ‘gift’ went missing that evening, but was pleasantly astonished when she heard a loud clattering and a yell, and turned around to see that Edwin was trying to set up his tent while wearing the cursed gauntlets. His dedication to research was admirable, she mused, but even if he believed the gauntlets weren’t acting as they should, she hadn’t expected him to make the same mistake with a cursed object <em>again</em>.</p><p>Some people took a long time to learn, she supposed. At least he should grasp the concept this time.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I wasn't sure whether to write a character piece about Viconia, or a funny story about Edwin, so I tried compromising between the two. Hopefully it worked out!</p><p>All of the characters you requested are amazing, so thanks for that. Viconia had the spotlight in this story, but I liked writing everyone else so much that I'll definitely have to write for them again.</p><p>I hope you enjoyed this story, and have an excellent day!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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